


things my heart used to know

by MarbledOpalescence



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Anastasia (1997 & Broadway) Fusion, Arguing, Dancing, F/F, Pining, almost kisses, au typical amnesia, background Fantine/Favourite, implied enjoltaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24013276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbledOpalescence/pseuds/MarbledOpalescence
Summary: Cosette doesn't remember her past. All she has is a lingering memories of a song, a woman in white, and a locket with an inscription readingTogether In Paris.An Éposette Anastasia au.
Relationships: Cosette Fauchelevent/Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Les Mis Big Bang: Quarantine Edition





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it! The idea for this has been bouncing around in my head for a few years now, and I’m happy to finally be writing it! Many thanks go to the organizers of the Les Mis Quarantine Big Bang, my fabulous artist [Graintaire](www.graintaire.tumblr.com), and wonderful beta [PrincessCipherite](princesscipherite.tumblr.com). Thank you especially to my artist and beta for putting up with my unorganized self! I hope you enjoy, and comments/kudos are always appreciated! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I am playing fairly fast and loose with historical happenings and handwaving a lot of things! So uh, please forgive me for any historical inaccuracies you see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring the piece of incredible cross stitch that my partner [Graintaire](https://graintaire.tumblr.com/) did for this fic!

[Image description: a piece of cross stitch in an embroidery hoop. It depicts a pair of hands, Cosette on the left with light brown skin, and Éponine on the right with darker brown skin. At the bottom of the piece, their skirt are visible over a background of a bridge at night. In the top center of the piece is Cosette's locket on a gold chain hanging down. The locket is rhombus shaped, with a round pink center in the middle of a turquoise starbust shape surrounded by gold. End image description.]


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warnings this chapter: sequences of intense action, child endangerment

It is winter, Euphrasie’s favorite time of the year. The ballroom is lit up with lights and colors and on the dance floor the dancers are spinning, skirts and tailcoats whirling in a display of color and skill. She runs, weaving through the dancers, until she finds her mother. Fantine is dressed elegantly, her skirts folding as she bends down to kiss Euphrasie.

“Are you enjoying the party, darling?” she murmurs, and Euphrasie nods. Fantine smiles, her round face framed by a crown of golden curls. “I have a gift for you, dearest,” she says, reaching behind her neck to unfasten a necklace.

Euphrasie leans forward eagerly, and watches as her mother holds out a locket on a slender golden chain.

“This is a keepsake locket,” Fantine says, cupping the locket in her hand and letting the chain hang loose. “Inside it is a secret, just for you and me. Would you like to open it?”

Euphrasie nods and picks it up carefully, cautious with the delicate piece of jewelry. It’s surprisingly heavy in her hands, and she turns it over curiously. Fantine laughs and shows her how to work the latch, where to press to make it flick open. Euphrasie gasps in surprise when it does and Fantine laughs again. Inside is a lock of golden hair and an inscription.

“Together in Paris,” Euphrasie reads aloud, then looks up. “Mama, what does it mean, ‘together in Paris?’”

“It means that I have to go away for awhile. Your papa has business to still attend to in Russia, while I have things calling me to Paris. For now, you must stay with him here, but with this locket as a promise that we will be together again.”

Euphrasie blinks and looks away, not wanting her mother to see the tears welling in her eyes. She takes a breath to say something, but there’s a great crashing noise outside. Someone runs in, shouting that there are people storming the property, and suddenly everything is motion. The music stops in an unharmonious clatter, instruments falling to the floor. Across the room, she sees her father striding about, shouting orders.

There is a pounding on the doors to the great hall and Euphrasie is frightened. Suddenly Fantine is there again, falling to her knees and fastening the locket around Euphrasie’s neck with shaking hands.

“You have to go now, my little songbird, hide yourself and I’ll find you when this is all over.”

“But-”

“Go!” Fantine whispers fiercely, pushing her back towards the back of the room. Euphrasie stumbles a bit and moves to obey, tripping on her skirts a little. She watches her mother striding forward, skirts swirling, and that’s the last time she sees her. Euphrasie feels a hand on her arm and she whirls, poised to scream, to see a girl with dark hair standing there.

“Shh!” The girl says, putting a finger over her lips, “Follow me!”

Euphrasie follows without hesitation as the girl pushes in one of the flowers carved into the wall and crawls through the small door that opens. There is a small candle flickering softly in a holder on the floor and the girl scoops it up, Euphrasie following without a word.

* * *

The wind is cold when Euphrasie and the girl finally make it out, and Euphrasie shivers. It had been too tight in the tunnel and she’d had to shed her large outer dress and make the rest of the journey in her lighter petticoats. She turns to thank the girl but she had already disappeared. Hugging herself tightly, Euphrasie turns to head towards the stables. On a horse she can get away quickly. Behind her there’s an explosion and she turns in shock, seeing a huge plume of smoke rising from where the bridge is. Turning, she starts running towards the stables. There is a shout from behind her and she starts running faster, heart pumping.

She makes it inside, breathing in the heavy scent of horse, and heads immediately to the stall where her own pony sits restlessly. There isn't time to saddle her properly, so Euphrasie pulls herself up and goads Ursula out of the stables. There is a man waiting for her there, but he is startled by the sudden appearance of Euphrasie riding Ursula and staggers backwards as they burst past him.

The ride is bumpier than usual with the lack of a proper saddle, and Euphrasie finds herself slipping a little on Ursula's slick back. She holds tighter and steers her out of the gate and into the path leading out into the woods. Euphrasie breathes a sigh of relief as the trees close around her, glancing behind to see if they've gotten away without pursuers.

It is then that Ursula shies suddenly at something on the track. Euphrasie falls from her back and lands hard in the snow, her head hitting the ground sharply. Ursula runs off down the track, free of a rider, and Euphrasie lies in the snow, knowing nothing as the cold slowly overtakes her.

* * *

The little girl wakes up in the snow when someone is leaning over her.

“Are you alright?” they ask, concern plain in their face. “What’s your name?”

The little girl shakes her head, then clutches it when the motion makes it ache.

“I don’t...I don’t remember.”

Her finder’s face softens and he takes her by the hand, helping her up.

“Come with me,” he says, draping his coat around her shoulders, “I know a place where you will be safe.”

“Safe?” she repeats uncertainly, holding the coat close.

“Yes Cosette,” the old man says, smiling reassuringly at her, “Safe.”


	3. Chapter One: Leaving Home (At the Beginning)

Cosette stopped at the end of the path and looked back at the convent, her home for the past ten years and all that she remembered. No one was watching or waving her off, but she hadn’t expected there to be. As lovely as the nuns had been, as soon as she had made it clear she wasn’t joining their ranks Cosette had known that there was a time limit for how long she could stay. Now that time limit was up and she had her own destiny to make. Shouldering her pack, she turned away and started walking.

She hummed as she went, an old tune she remembered from when she was a child. Cosette assumed it had been her mother singing to her, because while the nuns had raised her well, none of them had been the singing type. It was a soft song, and Cosette remembered golden hair and soft hands, a long white dress...

The path came to a split and she stopped. To the left was a small town and the job Cosette had been promised by old Fauchelevent, an apprenticeship to a great-niece who was a tailor. But to the right... To the right was St. Petersburg, and a better chance for freedom than she ever may get. Her hand went to her chest and clutched the locket there.

“To the left is safety, a path set ahead of me,” she murmured, thinking out loud, “To the right is risk, uncertainty. But also...a chance to make my own path.”

“I know what is expected of me, I know what I should do,” she started walking down the road to the left, then paused. “But I also know what my heart wants to do.”

She stopped and stared at the road sign for a moment.

“If I don’t take this chance, how can I live with myself? It’s settled then, to St. Petersburg I go.”

Cosette tucked the locket back inside her dress where it rested against her heart and squared her shoulders, setting off down the path to a new future.

* * *

Éponine stomped through the snow laying thick on the ground, her hands shoved in her pockets and her coat collar turned up against the cold. Beside her, Grantaire was running his mouth again.

“-didn’t know that Laveuve had gone out of business, how was I supposed to know? Feh, these authorities, cracking down on honest businesses like some kind of avenging harpies. Can’t even buy a potato these days without being questioned, and-”

“If Laveuve’s ever worked an honest day in their life, I’ll eat my gloves.”

“You have a point, but still it’s the principle of the thing that matters. Government has a place and it’s not in business-”

Éponine rolled her eyes.

“You’re just upset because the latest round of closures means Irma Boissy tossed you out again.”

“True as that may be, it also means I still couldn’t get us travel passes. We’re stuck here, Ép.”

Éponine stopped and turned to stare at him. Her partner’s face convinced her that he was serious. He rarely said anything without a smirk, and his frown now meant that he wasn’t lying. She swore soundly, slumping against the wall.

"We needed those! Restrictions are tightening daily at this rate, and I would like to not be in Petersburg when it reaches a critical point."

"Éponine my dear, I am with you, and yet when I go to get travel papers there is no one there to sell me the shoddily copied things."

"We need another way out and fast." Éponine sighed, scrubbing her face with her hands. "And you haven't heard _anything_?"

"Well, I did hear something while I was buying flowers earlier- an aside, but you would not beLIEVE the kinds of things I overhear at the florists, I don't know what causes them to become such dens of sordid gossip and hedonism, but-"

"Sounds like your kind of place," Éponine interrupted drily.

"Quite. So anyway-"

"Is this a shortcut to the information you picked up, or is it the long way around?"

Grantaire huffed and glared at Éponine.

"I will attempt to keep it brief. I heard the baker's nephew talking to the florist's sister's wife, who helps out in the shop on Tuesday afternoons ever since the florist threw out his back, and THEY said that apparently there's been word from the old Tsarina in Paris. She's looking for her daughter and is offering a reward, no mention of coming back to the country at all."

"And this is a way out how?"

"If we can find the lost princess, we'll have a promised ticket out of here."

"The point is that she's _lost_ , you ass." Éponine said, pushing off of the wall and starting to walk down the street again.

"The _point_ , dear Éponine," he said, jogging slightly to catch up to her, then walking backwards in front of her and gesturing wildly, "Is that we don't have to find _her_ , we just have to find the _lost princess_."

She stopped suddenly as what Grantaire was implying sunk in. A grin spread slowly across her face.

"Think we can convince Enjolras to help us spread the word?"

* * *

The city was much bigger than Cosette had expected, more people and machines and noise than she had ever seen living at the convent. The buildings were huge, and she craned her neck, looking up and up and up at the domed roofs high above.

“Watch out!” came a cry from behind her, and she looked around startled as someone on a bicycle whirred past her. She was jostled again as someone brushed past her on the other side, a muttered “Watch where you stand!” sent her way too. A little overwhelmed, Cosette wove through the crowd until she could find a corner to lean in. Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her locket and thumbed the latch to open it, looking at the lock of golden hair and the inscription inside. Together in Paris.

 _I just have to get to Paris_ , she thought, closing it and clutching it in her fist, _in Paris I’ll find someone who knows me, in Paris I’ll be loved_.

Setting her shoulders, she pushed back out into the crowd, determined to find someone who could help her get to Paris.

* * *

“It is I, the lost princess Euphrasie!” the fifteenth girl on the list cried dramatically, striking what she must have thought was an emotional pose. Grantaire and Éponine applauded, him politely and Éponine decidedly less so.

“Thank you miss, we’ll let you know,” Éponine said, quickly ushering the girl off the stage and out the door. “R, who’s next?”

"Someone going by the name of..." he squinted, peering at the paper, "Anastasie Chenier?"

A figure walked out on the stage swathed in a large coat.

"Mother it's me," they said, dropping the coat and flipping their hair dramatically, "Euphrasie!"

Grantaire sighed and put his head in his hands while Éponine snickered.

"Jehan, I've known you for twelve years, you are not the lost princess Euphrasie."

"I could be though," Jehan said, pouting, "You don't know that."

"I very much do, though."

"Oh alright," Jehan said, vaulting down off of the stage and coming over to where Grantaire and Éponine were sitting. "I have something for you."

"What?" Grantaire said, standing up in surprise and meeting Jehan halfway. Jehan handed Grantaire a packet of papers and he looked at them in confusion.

"Exit papers courtesy of Feuilly."

Éponine stood up from her seat to see, and Grantaire just stared in shock.

"And these," Jehan said, handing over a large leather folder full of more papers, "Are from Enjolras. He needs you to deliver them to contacts in Paris when you get there."

"What??"

Jehan gave him a Look.

“He trusts you, you know.” Grantaire barked a laugh, but Jehan squeezed Grantaire’s arm sharply. “He does. Why else would he give you these letters to deliver and get Feuilly to find passports for you?” They stared intently at Grantaire’s face for a moment as if searching for something, then squeezed his arm one more time and backed away.

“Safe travels!” Jehan called to Éponine, who waved back. “Make sure you don’t get into too much trouble!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she called back, smiling as the poet left. She came up behind Grantaire and took the exit papers from his hands, looking over them critically. "Feuilly does good work."

When Grantaire didn't respond, she nudged his shoulder.

"Hey, we got the papers! Now all we need is the girl."

He nodded absently and she sighed, steering him back to his chair and calling for the next person on the list.

* * *

Éponine hunched her shoulders as she left the building, hands shoved in her pockets. Grantaire caught up easily, his body language much more relaxed and unworried than hers.

“Twenty people. Nearly twenty people, Grantaire, and not one of them could we pass off for Euphrasie. We’re going to miss our shot if we don’t hurry, and then we’ll just be stuck here for another year before we can make it out.”

“It’s only been a week since the Empress’ spokesman made the announcement about the reward, Ép, we’ve got time.”

“Yeah? How much time before another person comes up with the idea for the con we’re pulling? How much time before some other clever fool gets the idea to rope in some rube and play the old lady for her money? How much time before-”

Grantaire stopped and grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop too.

“R, what-”

“Shh! I thought I heard something!”

“In the old palace? No one comes here except us, anything valuable got looted ten years ago when the place fell.”

There was a louder thud and Éponine whipped her head around to look in that direction. 

“...Maybe we should check it out anyway.”

Grantaire nodded and they both stepped through a gap where the boards that had been nailed up to cover broken windows had fallen away. Dust swirled around them as they walked through the old hallways, getting closer to where the noise seemed to have been coming from. Éponine went to push open the big doors to the old ballroom, but Grantaire stopped her, pointing to the ground where there was a set of footsteps in the dust. He motioned for silence and she nodded, and then they pushed open the doors together.

In the middle of the old room, there was a girl. She was spinning, dancing by herself, humming a tune that echoed oddly in the large room and mingled with the scuffing sounds of her feet on the floor. She had long brown hair that floated like a cloud as she spun, the long skirt and tails of her old dress and coat flaring around her like a ballgown.

“Hey!” Éponine shouted, her voice echoing like a shot through the dusty quiet, “Who are you?”

The girl startled and froze, staring up at them.


	4. Chapter Two: Echoes of the Past and Hopes for the Future (Journey to the Past)

Cosette froze, turning and staring up at the two figures standing at the head of the staircase.

“I’m sorry!” she called up, “I didn’t know I was trespassing!”

“What?” The one on the left called back, a woman with short dark hair. “No, I just- Hold on.”

She descended the stairs, her companion following quickly behind. Cosette watched them approach guardedly, clutching her coat tighter around her. When the two reached the ground floor level they stopped, and the woman spoke again.

“Who are you?” she asked, “And why are you dancing in the middle of an abandoned building?”

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Cosette said, straightening herself, “It’s not as if the room’s been booked for an afternoon.”

The dark haired man with a big nose chuckled and elbowed the woman.

“She’s got a point there, Ép.”

She slapped his arm away and sneered at him.

“My name is Cosette,” she said, interrupting the duo's exchange. They ignored her introduction and stared at something behind her. The woman’s face was thoughtful, the man looking shocked.

“Grantaire,” the woman breathed, “Look at the portrait.”

Cosette followed their gaze and turned to look behind herself. On the wall was a painting of the royal family. Tsar, tsarina, and there in the middle the little princess Euphrasie. Big round eyes peering out from carefully posed curls. Cosette found herself staring at the painting, drawn into all of the details. _The dress looks heavy_ , she thought, _and that material looks itchy_. She reached up absently to scratch the back of her neck right where the little princess' dress sat. Suddenly she realized that the two people were talking behind her again and she turned back around.

"-at her, Éponine," the man was saying, "She's got the nose for it!"

"It's risky, R, what if she-"

"Excuse me," Cosette said, "Are you talking about me?"

They stopped whispering together immediately and shared one last glance- the woman, Éponine, glaring a warning at Grantaire who met her with a smile- before turning towards her again.

“My apologies,” he said with a bow, sweeping off his hat, “My name is Jean Grantaire, and this is my associate Éponine Jondrette. We have a proposition for you, Miss…?”

“Cosette,” she repeated, “Cosette Fauchelevent.”

“Miss Fauchelevent,” Grantaire repeated with a smile, “Have you ever wanted to see Paris?”

* * *

Once they had explained, Cosette agreed easily. She was to play the part of the lost princess Euphrasie Tholomyès once they got to Paris, in order to claim the reward that the tsarina was offering. It seemed like a fair enough trade: Grantaire and Éponine got a way out of Russia, she got a way to travel to Paris. Once she’d fooled the tsarina, she’d be free to find the person waiting for her.

They made a stop at a seamstress before heading to the train station- apparently Cosette’s dress wasn’t exactly “hidden royal” material- where Grantaire produced more money Cosette had ever seen to buy them three tickets on the next train west. Éponine led them through the train cars until they reached one near the back, just before a luggage car. They settled in, Grantaire starting to extol the virtues of this kind of travel while Éponine unfolded a newspaper and buried herself in it. Cosette listened to Grantaire’s impassioned speech for a while, but as he kept going on, she found her interest drifting and started staring out the window as they started rolling out of the city and into the countryside.

She tried imagining what it would be like in Paris. Grantaire had mentioned a contact, a mother’s friend’s sister’s gardener’s cousin or something like that, someone close to the tsarina that they could talk to to gain an audience. There, Cosette would dazzle the tsarina somehow, Éponine had mentioned lessons in passing, and then the two would depart with the reward and Cosette would...well, she wasn’t exactly clear on that part. Frowning at her own reflection in the cloudy glass, she saw Éponine in the glass as well, looking at her over the edge of the newspaper. She turned to meet her gaze and they stared at each other for a moment, Cosette feeling a blush rising on her cheeks against her will, before Éponine cleared her throat and stood up.

“I need some air,” she announced, leaving the car abruptly. Grantaire waved her off, barely pausing his monologue that had passed from the grandeur of trains to talking about the wonders of the printing press and the written word to say goodbye. Cosette watched her go, slightly puzzled. They hadn’t exactly known each other long, but Éponine still hadn’t said more than a couple dozen words to her, mostly letting Grantaire do the explaining, interjecting when Grantaire started to get off on a tangent, but not speaking directly _to_ Cosette. She wondered idly if she’d done something to make the young woman dislike her.

* * *

Éponine breathed out slowly when she closed the door to the train compartment behind her. She hadn’t _lied_ , exactly, she did need air. Cosette’s eyes still burned in her mind, looking straight into hers, open and direct. Shoving her hands in her coat pockets and scowling, she headed in the direction of the front of the train. There were little platforms in the gap between each car that made for good places to breathe. She leaned on the railing, looking out into the countryside as it rolled by. 

“Not much longer,” she whispered to herself, “Soon I’ll be out of this place forever.”

A couple of other passengers pushed through the doors, picking their way carefully past Éponine. She watched them, carelessly eavesdropping on their conversation out of habit more than interest.

“-you believe they’ve changed the color again? Third time this week! They must be mad, I tell you, so many passports will have to be-”

The pair were gone before Éponine could hear the rest of it, but there was a heavy lump in her stomach from what she had heard. Pushing through the doors after them, Éponine caught the arm of the one in the large brown coat. 

“Excuse me, but did you say something about the color of the passports?”

They looked at her oddly, but nodded.

“Here,” they said, pulling out their passport book, “See for yourself!”

And Éponine did see. There, on the slightly rumpled brown paper, was bright scarlet ink, bold as day. Éponine’s blood ran cold.

“I see,” she said softly, letting go of the coat and stepping back, “Thank you for your time.”

The pair walked off, tittering to each other and casting glances back over their shoulders at her. Éponine’s mind was whirling, cycling through scenarios. Feuilly couldn’t have made the passports they had more than a week ago, which means the shift must have been recent. Maybe the authorities would be more forgiving because of the uncertainty? She tossed that thought immediately. They would assume the worst most likely, and Éponine couldn’t chance that. They had to get off the train, as quickly as possible.

The sound of a door at the other end of the train car made Éponine look up sharply, and what she saw made her blood run even colder. Thénardier was there, looking official as his partner knocked on the door of the first compartment. She ducked out the back the same way she came before he could see her, breathing fast. Her father...why was her father here? Did he know she’d left the city, was he after her? Before they’d left, she’d made sure to pass everything she’d managed to gather about what and who her father was influencing in the government and passed it onto Enjolras. Had Thénardier found her out?

No, no. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. Thénardier was here on government business, that was all. It was only a coincidence she’d wound up on the exact same train as him. She chanced a glance back over her shoulder through the window and watched his small, sharp face as he stood looking important while his partner- lackey, more likely- checked the papers of the next compartment along.

They had to go now.

* * *

Back in the train car, Cosette had managed to engage Grantaire in a more two-way conversation, rather than just the onslaught of words it had been before. They were engaged in a spirited discussion of the merits of muslin over satin when Éponine slid the door open again. Cosette looked up, a greeting on her lips, but Éponine started talking before she could say a word.

“We have to get off this train.”

“What? What are you-” Cosette started to say, bewildered.

“What do you mean, Ép?” Grantaire said, getting to his feet.

“The ink color’s changed again,” Éponine said, pulling out her fake passport and the passport she’d swiped off the other person that had stopped and talked to her and handed it to Grantaire, “Everything is scarlet.”

Grantaire swore softly as he flipped through the two small books, the blue of the forgery soft against the bright red of the real thing.

“It’s worse than that too,” Éponine continued, and Cosette looked at her blank face in alarm. “Thénardier is here.”

Grantaire swore louder, stuffing the books in his pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Cosette asked, “Who’s Thénardier?”

“I’ll explain later, Lark,” Grantaire said, squeezing her upper arm gently, “For now, just grab your bags and follow me.”

She went along with it, grabbing the small bag she’d brought with her from the convent and following Éponine as she led the way from the compartment and back through the car to the luggage car. There was a padlock and Éponine glanced over her shoulder quickly to make sure no one was watching before pulling a small set of tools out of her pocket. Cosette watched in fascination as Éponine selected a few small pieces of wire and inserted them into the lock. Grantaire stood behind them as a barrier, watching the other end of the car. There was a click and Éponine huffed a small laugh in triumph, and pushed the door open.

“Go through, quickly,” she said, ushering Cosette and Grantaire into the other car, before swiftly rethreading the padlock into the clasp so it looked like it hadn’t been tampered with and slid out the door after them. Cosette glanced over her shoulder as they slipped into the other car and saw two men in crisp uniforms entering the passenger car behind them. Cosette turned to try and ask the other two what the hell was going on, but they seemed deeply involved in a whispered argument again. She crossed her arms and waited. Éponine seemed to make a point though, gesturing sharply, because Grantaire sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before nodding. Turning to Cosette, he smiled brightly.

“Good news, Miss Fauchelevent!” She raised an eyebrow at him. “It seems we will be taking the scenic route after all. Right this way,” he bowed, gesturing towards where Éponine was already tugging at the door in the side of the train car. Wind started rushing around the compartment as she pulled it open, tugging Cosette’s hair out of its braid.

Grantaire went first, taking a breath before jumping out of the train, rolling as he fell. Cosette gasped, but he sat up and waved as the train rolled away from him.

“You next,” Éponine said softly, and Cosette turned to meet her eyes. Dark eyes looked into hazel and Cosette forgot how to breathe. After a moment, she caught her breath again, breaking the spell of the moment and nodded. Whispering a prayer under her breath and following it with a word she only heard when she helped in the kitchens and Sister Agatha burned the pastries for good measure, she jumped.


	5. Chapter 3: Life is Like a Dance (Learn to Do It)

After they’d jumped out of a train, Grantaire caught up to Cosette and Éponine a little further on like it was nothing, and they walked to the nearest settlement. Grantaire walked Cosette around the town, pointing out oddities to her, while Éponine went in search of a different sort of transportation. She found them about an hour later near the lake where Cosette was teaching Grantaire how to skip rocks.

“I hired a wagon,” she said by way of greeting, “They’ll take us to the next train station. We leave tomorrow.”

“Excellent!” Grantaire cried, dusting his hands off against each other, “That gives us time to get started on lessons tonight.”

“Lessons?” Cosette asked.

“Certainly!” Grantaire exclaimed, “We need to get you ready to fool the old tsarina, and that means making you into the picture of a princess.”

Cosette scowled at him and Éponine snickered.

* * *

It turned out that many things went into learning how to be a princess, from how she walked to how to sit at a table. They started with table etiquette that evening, Grantaire demonstrating with ease how to fold a napkin, hold a fork, choose which utensil was for which course… Cosette’s head was spinning by the end of the night. Grantaire was a smiling and encouraging force, urging her on and comforting her when she made a mistake, but Éponine just watched. She lurked in the corner of the room like a shadow, newspaper in hand like on the train, but Cosette would look up sometimes from choosing between a salad and a fish fork and meet Éponine’s eye staring at her from across the room, holding them before Éponine would clear her throat and look down again or Grantaire would snap his fingers under Cosette’s nose, bringing her focus back.

The next day started early, Éponine leading the way to where the wagon she’d chartered would meet them. Grantaire ended up riding up front, keeping up a running conversation with their driver the whole time while Éponine and Cosette sat in the back. It turned out that Éponine was in charge of the next part of Cosette’s learning curve: history of the royal family.

“Would Euphrasie really have known this?” Cosette asked exasperatedly after two hours of names after names. “After all, she was only about eight when she disappeared.”

Éponine gave her a look that Cosette thought was supposed to be shrivelling, but Cosette just glared back. Éponine sighed, and looked back out at the scenery they were passing by.

“Kids remember a lot. Sometimes too much. Don’t you remember things from when you were young?”

“No,” Cosette answered frankly, and when Éponine looked at her in surprise she just shrugged. “I was found in the snow on the side of a road about ten years ago. I didn’t know who I was or where I came from. I didn’t even know my own name. Fauchelevent was the man who found me, so he gave me his name and called me Cosette.” She looked back at Éponine. “So forgive me if I don’t know what people remember as children.”

Éponine looked a little shaken and it seemed to take her a moment before she could process words again. Cosette looked away, back out over the fields, while Éponine came back to herself. They sat in silence for a moment, and when Éponine spoke again it was in a much softer voice.

“Do you want to try again from the beginning?”

Cosette looked back at Éponine, who had an uncertain expression on her face. Cosette smiled softly and Éponine smiled back.

“Yeah, okay.” Cosette said. “Let’s try again.”

* * *

They played hopscotch across the country for the next couple of weeks, from train cars to wagons walking on foot until they finally got to the port Grantaire had a contact in. Along the way, the lessons continued. Etiquette with Grantaire, something he was almost surprisingly adept at, but whenever Cosette asked him he just waved away her questions or answered them in such a twisting and winding way that she never came away from the conversations understanding what he had meant. Éponine meant history lessons, but after a while that moved beyond who was related to who and built what when to more specific things: what Euphrasie had gotten as a birthday gift, what she’d done as a child, how she’d acted… The more she learned about Euphrasie, the more eerily familiar it all felt. Like seeing a memory through clouded glass, things danced in the edges of her mind, whispering to be remembered. 

The port town was spectacular. They came down a path from the rise, on foot this time, and Cosette gasped at the sight. It sprawled down the hillside to the water like a collection of colored blocks, and in the water the boats floated, colored specks themselves. Éponine and Grantaire came to a stop on either side of her, flanking her shoulders. They stood there together a moment, just taking in the sight.

“Come along, little Lark,” Grantaire said softly, resting his hand on her shoulder, “We’re almost there.”

Cosette nodded faintly, then looked down at her hand at a feeling of pressure. Éponine had taken her hand and was squeezing it softly. She looked up and met her eyes, dark staring into hazel again. Éponine raised their clasped hands between them and Cosette nodded, smiling.

* * *

The ship was waiting for them and Grantaire greeted the captain with a kiss and a smile. He introduced her as Floréal, a slightly grim woman with tattoos up both her arms. Cosette was a little intimidated at first, but when she saw the way Floréal smiled when Grantaire kissed her cheek, she felt better. It would take them a few days to get from the port to France, so Cosette prepared herself for more of what had been their normal on the journey, but that night Grantaire had something different prepared. He handed her a brown paper parcel after dinner, and she looked at him curiously.

“Open it, little Lark,” Grantaire said with a smile, “I promise it won’t bite.”

Wrapped in the brown paper was a pale blue dress, with a long full skirt and short flowy sleeves.

“Tonight you learn to dance,” Grantaire said, and Cosette looked up sharply. His smile grew at her surprised expression, and he laughed a little as he continued. 

“Every princess knows how to dance, Miss Fauchelevent. We’ll have to brush up your skills before Paris. After all, we must think of your poor partner’s toes!”

Cosette laughed too, and shoved his shoulder gently.

It was almost sunset when Cosette came up on deck, her skirts swishing around her legs gently. Grantaire whistled softly and came to meet her, holding her shoulders as he exclaimed over her. Behind him, Éponine got to her feet slowly, staring.

“-look like a proper princess! The blue brings out your eyes, I knew I was correct in picking this fabric for you. It’s my artist’s eye, still working after all these years-”

Cosette blushed a little under all of the attention, pushing Grantaire away jokingly.

“You promised me dance lessons!” she said smiling.

“That I did!” He exclaimed, then turned and gestured to Éponine. “Éponine, come here! Cosette needs a partner to learn to dance.”

Both women looked at him in surprise and a little panic and he laughed. 

“I can’t teach and dance at the same time, which is why I am deputizing _you_ , Éponine, as my assistant! Now, let’s get started,” he said, clapping his hands together, “Floréal, will you be so kind as to grace us with some music for the evening?”

Floréal grinned, showing a pair of sharp canines, and tucked a violin under her chin, drawing the bow slowly across the strings in the starting notes of a waltz.

“May I have this dance?” Éponine asked, offering Cosette her hand but not looking her in the eyes. Cosette took it, trying to keep down a blush. Grantaire hovered around them, fixing hand positions, postures, and setting a beat as they started dancing and spinning around the deck of the ship.

Éponine kept her gaze fixed at a point somewhere over Cosette’s shoulder, so Cosette focused at the spot where her hand rested on Éponine’s shoulder. It felt stiff, shuffling around in circles, and Cosette felt herself flushing with embarrassment, feeling like a spectacle.

“No no no!” Grantaire said, stopping them, “You need to relax! Loosen up, let yourself _flow_ with the music, _feel_ it with your body. Look her in the eyes! Dance is about communication, so you have to connect with your partner!”

Cosette looked up from Éponine’s and met her eyes, dark eyes meeting hazel again. Grantaire stepped back and clapped his hands together one more time.

“Floréal, will you play for us once more?”

Floréal drew her bow across the strings again, and Cosette and Éponine started to dance. Staring right into Éponine’s eyes made the dance feel more intimate to Cosette, and she felt her breath catching slightly.

“You, um,” Éponine started, then paused and cleared her throat a little, “The dress looks really nice on you. It...suits you?”

“I am going to assume that was a compliment,” Cosette said, lifting one eyebrow.

Éponine blushed a little, surprising Cosette and making her smile.

“Yes, I meant that as a compliment.”

“Thank you, then,” Cosette said, then continued, “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.”

The music swelled around them, the violin accompanied by the lapping of the water against the boat. Cosette felt her heart beating in time with the music, her pulse loud in her ear. 

“Are you getting dizzy?” Éponine asked softly.

“Are you?”

“Yes,” Éponine admitted, smiling slightly.

“It’s probably the spinning,” Cosette said.

“Maybe we should stop spinning then.”

“We have stopped.”

“Oh.”

They stopped as the echoes of the music faded away over the water. Cosette felt her breath catching and Éponine suddenly seemed very close. Éponine leaned in slightly and Cosette leaned up-

The boat rocked suddenly, sending them staggering slightly. Éponine caught Cosette, steadying her as Floréal laughed, pulling herself up on a rope and calling orders to the crew. Éponine set Cosette back on her feet and stepped away again, clearing her throat and straightening her shirt. Cosette watched her go uncertainly, then turned as Grantaire started talking to her, smiling brightly and nodding as he congratulated her and commented on her dancing.

She cast one last glance over her shoulder at Éponine where she stood looking out over the water, before turning and following Grantaire below deck.

* * *

Éponine leaned on the railing looking out over the water, trying to calm her racing heart. _You’re a fool and a coward, Thénardier,_ she thought, sighing. _She’s not going to love you back._ Her thoughts tripped over that word uncertainly. Love… she groaned and buried her face in her hands. There wasn't a way she could see this ending without heartbreak. When they got to Paris, Cosette was going to find the person she'd been looking for and Grantaire and Éponine would leave her. 

“The girl’s got you tied that much around her finger, huh,” a slightly gruff voice said from next to her, and Éponine looked up to see Floréal leaning on the railing next to her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Éponine said stiffly.

“You don’t have to lie to me, kid,” Floréal said, the hint of a laugh in her voice, “I know what a heart about to break looks like.”

Éponine meant to retort to that but found that her heart suddenly weighed too much to speak. 

“Sometimes you just have to cut your losses early,” Floréal said, looking out over the water too. “Protect your heart first. It’ll hurt for a little while but your heart will still be in one piece.”

Sighing, she clapped Éponine on the shoulder.

“Think about what I said,” she said, and went back to her duties, leaving Éponine standing by herself again.

The sun was setting, then, turning the water to reflections of gold and fire. She stared out into it until it set fully, settling into night.


	6. Chapter 4: Paris Holds the Key

Cosette waited anxiously in the cafe down the street from the hotel they were staying, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. She startled as Éponine sat down in the chair across from her, then smiled nervously at her.

“Good morning little Lark,” Éponine said, smiling back at Cosette, “Are you ready for the meeting?”

Cosette hummed cheerily, nodding and smiling, then taking a drink of the tea. She coughed slightly and put the cup down a little too hard, not meeting Éponine’s eyes. Éponine’s smile dimmed and she looked concerned.

“Cosette, are you alright?”

“Oh yes I’m fine,” she said airily, smiling blankly. Grantaire had left that morning to go find their contact, so Cosette had been waiting in the cafe all morning. Éponine had been odd around her since the docked in France, so Cosette had gone off on her own, not wanting to be a burden to the woman if she wasn’t wanted. Her throat was tight when she looked at Éponine- just nerves, she told herself- so she looked out at the street instead. There was a flower shop across the way, she noted idly, and a woman walking a very large cat down the street on a leash.

“Cosette,” Éponine said again, reaching across the table and grabbing Cosette’s hand, “You don’t have to put on a face in front of me.”

Cosette looked back at Éponine again, dark eyes meeting hazel, and she felt her throat close up again.

“I…”

Éponine moved their hands so that their fingers were laced together and Cosette felt her breath hitch again.

“I suppose I’m worried,” she said, looking down at where their hands rested on the table. “You and Grantaire are depending on me here, we’ve come all this way and you’ve helped me so much- what if I mess up now?”

“You won’t,” Éponine said plainly, “And even if you do, well. We made it all the way to Paris, which was the most important part. Grantaire delivers his papers, I find a job out here, and you find the person you’ve been searching for. The one who gave you that locket.” Cosette clutched the locket with her free hand, biting her lip.

“You’re not just worried about the tsarina,” Éponine said slowly, “Are you.”

“What if they don’t like me?” Cosette burst out, feeling her eyes burn with tears. “I’ve come so far, been dreaming all of my life about finding them, and what if they don’t love me? What if it’s all been a waste?”

“Cosette, no,” Éponine said, leaning forward over the table and wrapping her other and over Cosette’s, “Of course they’ll love you. They’d be a fool not to.”

Cosette looked up again and met Éponine’s intense gaze through a veil of tears, feeling her breaths coming in gasps. She watched Éponine take a breath, open her mouth as if to say something-

“Good morning Lark!” Grantaire cried as he burst into the shop, “And I see the daughter of the wolf is with you!” he added when he saw Éponine.

At his intrusion Éponine pulled back, casting a glance at Cosette one more time. Cosette discreetly dried her eyes and looked up at Grantaire with a smile.

“I bring good news,” he said before either of them could ask, “I have acquired an audition for you!”

* * *

Éponine leaned against the back wall of the room, watching Cosette pace the middle of the floor, talking to herself quietly and fidgeting with her dress. She didn’t try to eavesdrop, leaving Cosette to her privacy.

After Grantaire had come and fetched them from the cafe, they’d gone back to the hotel for Cosette to change into the blue dress before they came here. Apparently this was the private house of a Madame Favourite, Grantaire’s lead and personal attendant to the tsarina. She fielded any claimants, screening them before allowing them an audience with the tsarina, and Grantaire had arranged for them to meet with Madame Favourite today. They’d been waiting in this sitting room for several minutes already, Grantaire having been whisked away by one maid to meet with Madame Favourite first while another maid led Éponine and Cosette to this room. 

The door opened at the other side of the room and Cosette whirled to face it, skirts swinging. Éponine straightened at the arrival of a tall woman with brown curls pinned elegantly into place, Grantaire by her side.

“Madame Favourite,” he said, gesturing grandly, “May I introduce my associate Éponine Jondrette?” she nodded in acknowledgement. “And of course, Miss Euphrasie Tholomyès. The lost princess.”

Cosette had straightened too, trading her nervous expression for one of austere calm. She curtsied smoothly, then stood with her hands folded smoothly in front of her while Favourite circled her slowly. Éponine found herself holding her breath until Favourite nodded once, sharply, and invited Cosette to sit down. She began questioning Cosette, who answered them all smoothly and perfectly. Éponine felt herself breathing easier with each answer and occupied herself simply with watching Cosette.

Dressed in blue, her hair tied back and spilling in curls down her back, a vision of loveliness. She was an animated talker, gesturing for emphasis as she covered childhood favorites, friends, pastimes… Finally, Favourite nodded.

“I have just one more question, my dear,” she said, her voice soft like honey. “How did you escape, the night the palace fell?”

Éponine breathed in sharply and shared a panicked glance with Grantaire. They hadn’t known to go over this, how could they, but Cosette started talking and the room seemed to still around her.

“It was a party,” Cosette said slowly, her eyes distant and one hand at her throat, fidgeting with her locket, “There was a big noise outside and Mother went to go find Father, to help him, and she told me to hide. I tried to run, but I tripped on my skirts.” She paused for a moment, seeming to remember something suddenly. “There was a girl.” Éponine froze, not daring move, not daring breathe. “She appeared like a ghost, out of nowhere, and she showed me a secret passage in the wall. When we got out, she disappeared like a ghost again. I never got to thank her.”

Cosette kept talking, but Éponine didn’t process any of it. She remembered that night. Her father had been triumphant, leading the way into the tsar’s palace on the information that Éponine and her sister and mother had provided him from working in the palace. She remembered the girl Cosette mentioned, because she _was_ that girl. Éponine stared at Cosette and suddenly she could see it. The resemblance that Éponine had pointed out to Grantaire when they’d first discovered Cosette dancing alone hadn’t just been a coincidence. Cosette resembled the painting because she was the subject of it.

Whatever else Cosette had said seemed to satisfy Favourite because they were standing now, Favourite holding Cosette’s hands as she spoke.

“-will be attending the opera Friday night. We can introduce you there.”

And then Cosette was beaming, Grantaire was shaking Madame Favourite’s hand and thanking her, and Cosette turned to Éponine. Éponine couldn’t do anything but stare, leaning where she was at the back of the room, arms crossed over her chest. The way Cosette smiled at her, it was like the sun. It burned. Éponine felt an ache deep in her chest and she forced a small smile in return. Then Cosette turned away again, Favourite calling her attention back to discuss plans for Friday, and it was like all breath left Éponine’s body.

* * *

Éponine was distant that night. Cosette had thought things would go back to normal after that morning, but all that changed again after the audience. Cosette had been almost giddy after Favourite had believed her, that same feeling buoying her through talk of dresses and fittings in order to be ready for the opera, but Éponine had just drifted behind the group. Whenever Cosette had tried to engage her, Éponine had offered some bland comment or waved her off entirely. Cosette tried not to feel hurt, but that didn’t stop her heart from aching anyway.

She smiled through the dinner that Madame Favourite invited them to, but she had to force cheerfulness past a heavy heart now. Grantaire was a lovely friend, but Éponine had felt like more than just a friend. She’d been…

Cosette sighed and rolled over on her side in the hotel bed. The room suddenly felt very dark and very empty, and she felt very alone. Wrapping herself deeper in the blankets, she tried to force herself to sleep.

* * *

“-tomorrow is the day, Ép, and once Cosette convinces the tsarina we’ll be off!”

Éponine hummed noncommittally, staring out the window. Grantaire paused, turning to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concerned. “You’ve been off for a few days, since we met with Favourite that first time.”

“Oh no, I’m fine. Just delighted for our little princess.”

Grantaire gave her a look.

“Don’t be like that.”

“Be like what? She’s a princess, after all, about to find her family. She won’t need me around any longer and I couldn’t be more delighted.”

“What are you-”

“I was there that night, R. When the palace got stormed. I was the one who got Euphrasie out, just like she said. She’s the real deal, so there’s no worry about not getting our money. After tomorrow, I’m gone.”

“But then...that’s amazing! Éponine, just tell her! I’ve seen the way you look at each other, it won’t-”

“And then what, R?” Éponine asked scathingly, “I tell her that it’s my fault her family died and she lost herself for ten years? Or do I keep that secret from her and let the wall between us stay up. There isn’t a future where she and I are… where she and I are anything. If she knew the truth she wouldn’t be able to look at me again, which is why I need to leave.” She stopped and sighed, her shoulders slumping in. “I’m sorry, my friend.”

“If you think she’ll hate you because your father made you do something bad when you were a kid, I don’t think we know the same Cosette at all. Just talk to her. You’re doing both of you a disservice by cutting yourself out of her life like this.”

“I never had a part in her life to begin with,” Éponine snapped, “This started as a job and is ending as a job. And you’re playing the hypocrite, aren’t you, telling me to talk to Cosette when you haven’t been able to do the same with Enjolras after three years.”

Grantaire recoiled a bit slightly, like she’d slapped him, and she almost regretted it. “I’ll tell Cosette you’re not coming with us tomorrow then,” he said coldly, and shut the door firmly behind himself.

Éponine flinched at the sound and folded in on herself, tucking her legs in and wrapping her arms around them, making herself as small as possible. It would all be over soon, she told herself. Tomorrow Cosette would become Euphrasie again, her and Grantaire would get their reward, and she’d be free to go anywhere and be anyone she wanted.

Somehow, that goal didn’t feel so important anymore.


	7. Chapter 5: Together in Paris

The dress was beautiful. The dress was beautiful, and Cosette didn’t quite feel real. It shone like a night sky, dark blue and silver, and brushed the floor as she walked. Grantaire was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, wearing a suit with his dark hair swept back neatly for once. He offered her his arm with a bow and a smile and she took it as they walked out to the car Madame Favourite had sent to ferry them to the opera. It was a brief ride. Cosette sat in silence while Grantaire rambled on about the opera that was playing tonight, even delving into the social lives of the lead actors with information he had somehow managed to glean over the past week in the city.

Favourite met them in a receiving room off to one side of the lobby.

“Lady Fantine will be waiting in her usual box. I’ll go first and let her know you are here, then you will come in and I will introduce you,” she said, meeting both Grantaire and Cosette’s eyes in turn. 

Cosette swallowed and nodded, squeezing Grantaire’s hand for comfort. He flashed her a smile and softly squeezed back, and they followed Favourite out and up the stairs. Cosette became very aware of her every breath as they got closer to the door. She held Grantaire’s hand like a lifeline, clutching it tightly until she was sure she must have been hurting him, but he did nothing except squeeze gently back in a reminder of _I’m here too, you’re not alone_.

And then they were there. Favourite opened the door and as Cosette stepped inside, watched her lean down and murmur something into the ear of the woman sitting there. Cosette could hear her heart pounding in her ears now, so loud she was sure it must have rivalled the tuning instruments of the orchestra for volume. The woman stood and turned to face them, clutching Favourite’s arm for support much the same way that Cosette was clutching Grantaire’s.

Cosette felt her heart skip.

The tsarina Fantine was younger than she thought. Cosette realized that she must have been young when she had her daughter, maybe even younger than Cosette was. Fantine had golden curls of hair kept cut very short to her head, unlike the portraits the Cosette had seen where Fantine had worn them long and full, but the thing that Cosette noticed most about her was how _tired_ she looked.

"My Favourite says you have something important to show me," Fantine said, her voice soft but strong.

Grantaire nodded, bowing eloquently and gesturing towards Cosette.

"My lady," he said, "If I may introduce Miss Euphrasie Tholomyes?"

Cosette curtsied, looking down quickly but not before she noticed how pale Fantine had gotten. When she stood, Fantine had turned away and was talking to Favourite, ignoring her and Grantaire both.

"I asked you to stop with this," Fantine said, and Cosette could hear the barely restrained quiver of tears in her voice.

"Fantine," Favourite pleaded, "I wouldn't have done this if I didn't believe it this time." Cosette watched Fantine turn and glare at the taller woman, her face cold.

"Please," Favourite said, pressing one of Fantine's hands between both of hers. Fantine sighed slightly, and turned her ice cold gaze on Cosette.

"You claim you're my daughter," Fantine said, no mercy in her eyes, "Why?"

"I..." Cosette trailed off, unsure how to continue, before taking a breath and balling her fists in the skirt of her gown. "I don't claim any such thing, madam. My name is Cosette Fauchelevent and I came to Paris to find someone I loved a long time ago. I don't remember my family, but the only clue I've ever had to them has led me here."

When she had straightened her shoulders before talking, the locket shifted a bit, catching the light, and Fantine gasped. She reached out with an unsteady hand before seeming to come to herself again.

"May I?" she asked softly, and Cosette nodded uncertainly, reaching up to undo the clasp. Fantine took the locket with shaking hands and opened it.

“ _Together in Paris_ ,” she read aloud, and smiled. “I remember when I commissioned this locket, all those years ago. I remember the look on my daughter’s face when I gave it to her too,” she said, meeting Cosette’s eyes. “It’s been many years since I made this promise to you, but here we are. Together in Paris at last.”

Something in the moment breaks, and suddenly Cosette is in Fantine’s arms, in _her mother’s_ arms. 

There are tears to be shed and questions to be answered, but for now Cosette just rests in her mother’s arms for the first time in ten years.

* * *

Éponine burst into the lobby of the opera house, earning glares from a few of the other patrons who were loitering in quiet conversation. Straightening her tie and smoothing down her hair, she sought out the concierge, asking for the tsarina’s booth. He looked at her oddly, but gave her directions. She took the stairs two at a time, counting doorways under her breath, until she found it. Éponine raised her hand to knock then paused at the sound of laughter coming from behind the door. She turned to go, suddenly second guessing all of the reasoning that had led her to believe that coming was a good idea, when the door swung open.

“-be right back,” the woman exiting the room said over her shoulder, “I'll just go and see if the concierge has any more- Oh.” She stopped at the sight of Éponine. “Can I help you?”

The woman had short blond curls, piercing eyes, and a nose that Éponine had seen every day on Cosette’s face during their travels. In person, the resemblance was obvious.

“Your grace,” Éponine said with a bow, “My name is Éponine Jondrette, I came looking for my associate Mr. Grantaire? I wished words with you as well, but I have caught you at a bad time, I’ll-”

“Not a bad time, no,” Fantine said, easing the door shut behind her, “What was it you needed?”

Éponine stifled the embarrassment she felt rising in her and drew instead on the skills that her father taught her that she hadn’t used for years.

“Madame. I am aware that this may be a bad time, but I have business that will take me out of Paris soon, so on the matter of the reward…?”

She hated feeling like this, casting out a rope to ensnare an audience and get them to do what she wanted. Éponine had thought she’d finally left it all behind with her father, but apparently the traces ran deeper than she knew.

“Of course,” Fantine said, and Éponine watched her eyes go cold. “You do understand I don’t have that sum of money on me. Come by my house tomorrow afternoon and I will have it ready for you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she said, pushing past Éponine.

Éponine inclined her head in thanks and stepped aside, watching her sweep down the hall. There was a soft noise from behind her and she turned to see Cosette in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face. Éponine caught her breath at the sight of Cosette. She looked heavenly, like Princess Euphrasie at last, her hair pulled back into an elegant bun and wearing a dress like the night sky.

“What did you mean,” Cosette said slowly, “When you said you were leaving soon?”

Éponine stood caught like a wild animal, dark eyes staring into hazel, and didn’t know what to say.

“All this time, you were just...just in it for the money? What about Grantaire, what about-” Cosette cut herself off, but Éponine could guess what she’d been about to say. _What about me?_ “I thought I knew you better than that, I thought- but it seems I was wrong.”

“It seems you were, Princess,” Éponine said, her mask falling into place and tried not to notice how Cosette flinched slightly at the title. “I made my arrangements with Grantaire earlier, he knows. I only came tonight because my plans have become more pressing.”

“Would you have told me? No, don’t answer that,” Cosette said before Éponine could open her mouth to answer, “I don’t need to hear you lie to me.”

Éponine could see the family resemblance more strongly now. Cosette’s eyes were hard just the way Fantine’s had been, and cut her just as deeply.

“I-” Éponine started, but Cosette went on.

“I wish you safe journeys, Miss Jondrette,” Cosette said, her voice as cold as ice, “And that you find what you seek as you go.”

Éponine tilted her head in acknowledgement and stepped back. Turning on her heel, she walked back down the hallway she’d come from, feeling Cosette’s eyes on her back until she turned a corner and was out of sight. She didn’t dare look back once.

* * *

Éponine paced the floor of her hotel room, back and forth, back and forth. She hadn’t slept all night and still was no closer to a solution to her problem than before. Cosette’s eyes still haunted her, the betrayed look in her eyes…

Éponine groaned and threw herself down on the bed, hands over her eyes. In that moment, she had felt herself living up to every one of her father’s expectations. And she hated it. Outside, she heard a bird start to sing as the sun came up.

Looking out the window, she saw the small thing fly up and perch on the windowsill, chirping its tune and cocking its head at her, before flying away just as fast. Sighing, she pulled herself up to a sitting position. She knew what she had to do.

Fantine’s house had been easy enough to find. It wasn’t exactly a secret where the former tsarina lived, and the person she’d asked on the street had pointed her in the right direction readily enough, even more so when she pressed a few bills into their hand. And now she stood in front of it. She raised her hand and knocked on the door before she could stop herself. She was answered promptly and soon found herself waiting in a sitting room, hat clutched in her hands.

“Miss Jondrette,” Fantine’s cool voice came from behind her, and Éponine turned abruptly to face her.

“Your grace,” Éponine said, sweeping a curtsy.

“I hadn’t expected you so early,” Fantine said, walking into the room wrapped in a dressing gown, “I thought perhaps to expect you after lunch.”

“My apologies, your grace,” Éponine said, feeling herself flush slightly at her words, “My plans have accelerated themselves suddenly. I intend to leave Paris by the end of the day.”

“I see,” Fantine said, walking over to a wooden dresser that stood in the corner of the room and pulling out the top drawer to fetch a heavily stuffed envelope. “So you needed the money as soon as possible, is that it?”

“No, I- No.” Éponine said, balling her fists at her sides as she prepared herself to say what she had to next. “I came today to say I will not be claiming the reward.”

“Oh?” Fantine said, turning abruptly to look at Éponine with those piercing eyes.

“It feels wrong to lay claim to a reward for something I had no part in doing. Your daughter found her own way to you more than I ever helped her.” Éponine looked down and away, clasping her hands behind her back to keep them from shaking. “Please pass my regards on to the princess. I must go.”

Turning, she left the room quickly, brushing past the startled tsarina. She almost ran from the house and didn’t stop until she was down the street and around the corner from the big old house. Outside again, she pressed her hands to her hot cheeks, trying to cool them down. Closing her eyes, she leaned against the brick wall behind her. _Well_ , she thought, _there’s that bridge burned. Nothing left but forward, now_. She ignored the tears that burned in her eyes until they went away, standing alone as the city woke up.

* * *

Cosette hummed as she walked into the house. After the opera, they’d fetched her things from the hotel and taken them here. Here. Her mother’s house, where she had a room to herself. Cosette still wasn’t certain it all wasn’t a dream, but she didn’t want to wake up yet. She’d gone shopping with Favourite earlier, wanting to see more of the city, and was still half surprised when she came back to the house that it was all real.

“Mother!” she said when she saw Fantine in the drawing room, and oh how her heart still skipped when she said that.

Fantine lit up and she embraced Cosette easily, kissing her cheek. 

“Euphrasie, my darling,” she said, beaming, “How was your errand?”

They talked easily for a time, settling into seats on the couches in the drawing room.

“Oh,” Fantine said after a bit, “I had a visitor this morning, your friend Miss Jondrette.”

“Oh?” Cosette said very carefully, putting down her cup of tea as her heart felt suddenly heavy again, “I imagine she came to claim her money.”

“So did I, but she refused it. Said she didn’t feel right claiming it.”

Cosette’s eyes felt hot but she refused to acknowledge the tears.

“She is more noble than I gave her credit for,” Fantine mused, “Perhaps I misjudged her.”

“Why did she leave, then?” Cosette found herself saying as her fists clenched in the skirt of her dress, “Why did she tell me it was only about the money?” Tears fell from her face, dotting the fabric of her skirt. “Mama, why would she leave me?”

“Oh, Euphrasie…” Fantine said, putting her own tea aside, “The heart is a fickle thing. Perhaps she felt it was better for her to leave, and leave you here to your new life without her.”

“If...if she really meant it, then. Mama, I-”

“The heart chooses what the heart wants, whatever the mind may say at times. It’s not too late to find her, Euphrasie.” Cosette looked away. Fantine took her hand and pulled her into a hug. 

“My Cosette,” she murmured, “I wish I could keep you always, but you have your own life to live, your own path to take. Go and find your love.”

When they pull away, there are tears in both of their eyes.

“I’ll come back,” Cosette promised.

“I know,” Fantine said, smiling as tears trace their way softly down her cheeks.

She watched her daughter go with a bittersweet pain in her heart. Favourite came up behind her and took her hand, brushing her knuckles with a kiss. Fantine turned and smiled up at Favourite.

“What would I do without you here to catch me,” Fantine said. 

“That’s something we won’t have to worry about ever finding out. Are you alright?”

“I will be,” Fantine said, smiling sadly.

* * *

Éponine shoved her hands into her coat pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind as she stood on the train platform. She tried to ignore how much her heart weighed by focusing on the little details of her surroundings: the fine dust that accumulated on the wooden planks of the platform, the smell of cologne clinging to the wool coat of the man in front of her, the murmur of people all around her. _It’s for the best_ , she told herself, _Cosette will be better off without you in her new life and Grantaire, for all his protests to the contrary, would be going back to Russia soon. Neither of them need you anymore, and that’s a good thing_. She had to swallow back against a sudden wave of tears, but it was true. Everything rattled as the train rolled into the station and she pushed forward with the rest of the crowd. She felt a hand on her elbow and would have ignored it as another part of the crowd when it _pulled_. She turned to look-

And froze.

Cosette was standing there, holding the arm of Éponine’s coat. She smiled and Éponine felt her heart swelling painfully.

“What are you doing here?”

“You were leaving without saying goodbye,” Cosette said, biting her lip nervously as she paused before continuing. “You were leaving without _me_.”

Éponine just stared at her dumbstruck, watching a blush slowly rise on Cosette’s face while she waited. Cosette let go of Éponine’s coat and stepped back, looking down and to the side.

“I’m sorry,” she started, “I’ll just-”

“Wait!” Éponine blurted out, catching Cosette’s hand. Cosette looked back at her, dark eyes meeting hazel.

“You came after me,” Éponine said softly, “Why?”

A smile broke slowly over Cosette’s face like the sun rising and Éponine felt her heart lifting.

“I thought it’d be obvious,” Cosette said, stepping closer, “I love you.”

Cosette leaned up and Éponine leaned in and this time there were no waves to send them staggering apart.

They stepped back a little at the sound of the train’s whistle, signalling the last call for boarding, and walked into their future together, hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it! I hope you liked it <3
> 
> Comments and/or kudos are always appreciated, and I'm [marbledopalescence](marbledopalescence.tumblr.com) on tumblr too, if you want to come say hi or shout about fandoms!


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